All the Hidden Sins

by Marian Lanouette

  In the mirror, puffy eyes greeted her. She wiped the tears falling down her face and repaired her makeup before she went back out. Work wasn’t the place for this to happen. She rinsed her face with cold water then took a couple of deep, calming breaths.

  She paced the small bathroom. I should cancel Phil for this evening and reschedule. “Yeah, right, like he’s a man you can reschedule. Wise up. Phil can make your life a living hell.” She realized she was speaking out loud. Everything echoed in this place. She made a decision. After work, she’d go to the casino, then to Phil’s. Hopefully, it’d calm her down before she had to deal with him.

  * * * *

  Restless all day, Phil decided he wanted to see Kyra for dinner. He reached for the phone. Started to dial her number. Stopped. He had set the time to inconvenience her, but it backfired on him. He was the one who needed to see her. He finished dialing her number.

  The minute she answered, he started right in, not giving her a chance to speak. “It’s Phil.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  Ah, businesslike, but her voice is off. “Are you crying?”

  “No.”

  Why had she lied? It was something he’d pursue tonight. “Let’s meet for dinner instead. My plans have changed.”

  “What time did you have in mind?”

  Agreeable, good. “Why don’t we do six thirty here? That way we can talk without being interrupted.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Interesting. Kyra’s mood had changed since the last time he’d spoken to her. Why? Did she have a fight with her cop?

  * * * *

  “Jake, it’s Kyra.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My ex is following me. My God, I can’t pry my fingers off the steering wheel. He’s upset with me. I can’t figure out why he’s doing this.”

  “You sure it’s him?”

  “Yes, we had it out today. I’m heading into the Hartford area. Every time I change lanes he does too. It’s as if he’s glued to my bumper. Hold on.”

  “Kyra, don’t put down the phone,” Jake yelled to no avail. Kyra didn’t answer him back.

  He strained, listening for any unusual noise. Tires squealed. Kyra swore. Helpless. His pulse raced. “Kyra!”

  “It’s my ex. Wait, I have to switch lanes. I hope I don’t get killed. Traffic’s heavy. I’m going to put the phone down again but I’ll keep it on speaker. If anything happens to me I want you to arrest Tommy for chasing me.”

  When Kyra let out a string of words a truck driver would’ve been proud of, he reached for his keys on his desk. He’d use the sirens to get to her if she’d tell him where the hell she was.

  “Listen, shout out your location. I’m on my way.”

  “I’m doing eighty-five and he’s still on my tail. Wait, I can squeeze between him and an eighteen-wheeler and make it off this exit. He won’t be able to follow.”

  “Tell me where you are. I’ll call the state police,” Jake said.

  Edgy, his nerves pinged in the silence.

  “Take that, you bastard,” Kyra shouted through the phone.

  The tension stretched in her voice, Jake relaxed when she came back on. “I’m okay, I outfoxed him.”

  “Why don’t I come over with dinner and you can tell me what happened.”

  “Thanks, but I’m on my way to meet a friend for dinner.”

  “I’m working late tonight. I’ll swing by when I’m through. If you’re home I’ll stop in for coffee if that’s all right with you.”

  “I might be late.”

  “Not a problem. Now tell me what happened. I want to document the incident on the record.”

  “I don’t want it on the record this time. It’s out of character for him. If it happens again—I will.”

  “Kyra, you need to document this incident. As you said, it’s out of character. That’s the part that scares me. It’s for your safety.”

  “Yes…traffic’s heavy. I weaved. If I went three lanes over, that car did too. I recognized Tom when he made the mistake of pulling up too close to me. He matched me move for move. No matter how fast or how slow I went he stuck with me. When I saw an opening for one car between two trucks I slipped between them when a car cut him off. As he passed I drove off the exit. He’s never acted this way before.”

  “Acted what way?”

  “He was waiting for me Saturday night when I got home. And he went ballistic on me after I told him I’m dating. He’s the one who asked for the divorce.”

  “It doesn’t matter who requested it. This kind of behavior doesn’t lead to anything good, Kyra. Call me if there’s another incident.”

  “Thanks, I will.”

  * * * *

  Her phone call with Jake smoothed her nerves. Bizarre, how she went from talking to a cop to visiting with a mob boss. She’d be amazed if she got out of this alive.

  Kyra pulled into Phil’s driveway at six thirty. The guard at the gate waved her through. After a quick scan she pinpointed the guards on the hill. Phil loved his security. The front door opened before her fist made contact with the door.

  “Hey, Kyra, follow me,” Angelo greeted her.

  Always business. No problem that’s the way she liked it. “Okay.”

  Angelo led the way. At Phil’s office, Kyra turned toward the door. What’s he grinning about?

  “This way.” He pointed farther down the hall. “You’ll be eating in the dining room.”

  Kyra turned to follow him to a part of the house she hadn’t seen before. A formal, spacious room done in burgundy and beige, nevertheless inviting. Whoever picked the art knew what they were doing. She appreciated the artist’s vision. but it was the chandelier that captivated her. Exquisite Swarovski crystal, if she wasn’t mistaken. Her gaze continued to move around the room. The huge dining table sat fifty. At the head of it sat Phil. A king surveying his kingdom. He stood as she approached.

  “Good to see you.” He extended both his hands to her. Awkwardly, she raised her hands to his.

  “Phil, this is a lovely room.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  So formal. “How have you been?” Lame.

  “Good. You?”

  “Fine.” At a loss for words, Kyra disengaged her hands to stroll around the room, looking at the artwork.

  “You seem nervous, Kyra. Why?”

  “I guess I am.” Desperate to get this part of the evening over, she continued, “It’s awkward.”

  “Why?”

  Not giving her an inch, she pressed on. “You seemed upset at the beach yesterday.”

  “I am. Or I was,” he corrected.

  “Sounds like you still are.” She held up her hand to stop his reply. “I didn’t have plans to see Jake again, as I told you Saturday night, but I like him. When he called on Sunday, I was happy to hear from him. While I was in the shower getting ready, you called.” A little lie.

  “Ah, I missed out by minutes,” he snarled.

  “No.” She needed to be honest. “I enjoyed your company Saturday night, but you’re my boss. I don’t mix business and pleasure.” She stopped pacing the room to look at him.

  “So ours is a business relationship, nothing more?”

  His blank face was unreadable. Not one iota of emotion showing. She cringed inside. “I’d like to believe we have a friendship developing.”

  “A friendship. How insulting, Kyra.”

  Oh boy, I’m screwed now. “Phil, it’s not my intention to insult you. I like you, but I work for you. You made that clear on Saturday night when I arrived for our date.”

  “I did.”

  She studied him, paced some more.

  “Please sit down. We can’t have a conversation with you moving around the room. It’s distracting.”

  �
��Sorry.” She walked to the table, sat in the first chair on his right.

  “Now, as I explained on Saturday, it was a date, nothing more. I knew you weren’t attracted to me from the lack of passion in your kiss.”

  “Oh.” She dropped her head.

  “But it bothers me you’re dating a cop.”

  “It has nothing to do with us or our business deal.” She lifted her head, stared into his eyes and fought all the nerves trying to flinch under his gaze.

  “You can’t be that naïve. I’m not comfortable with you dating him. And, as I explained last week, I own you. And I’m forbidding you from seeing him again.”

  Kyra didn’t break eye contact with Phil as she gave great care to her answer before she replied. She got up and started pacing the room again.

  “You’re quite restless, Kyra.”

  “I’m thinking,” she shot over her shoulder.

  Phil started to laugh. She jerked away, before marching to her chair. Kyra threw herself into it. “I’m glad I amuse you. It’d be unwise for me to dump Jake too fast. He’d question me on the why. It’d be best to let this burn out on its own.”

  “Explain.”

  “Jake and I hit it off right away, but he’s still in love with the last woman he dated. I don’t see this getting serious.”

  “Then why continue to date him?”

  “He’s good company. We have a lot in common.”

  “I can see that—you’re a criminal and he’s a cop.”

  The sarcasm wasn’t lost on her. She refrained from shooting her own nasty quip back at him. Phil’s jealousy floored her. Kyra didn’t have to be told how stupid it was to date Jake, but for the first time in her life she was alive with excitement. Was it worth the risk, the thrill?

  A tray filled with fruit and cheese sat in front of her. She grabbed a piece of apple with a slice of cheese, stuffed them both into her mouth.

  “Stalling, Kyra?”

  “No, I didn’t see where that required a reply.” She chose another piece of cheese.

  Phil stood. It was his turn to pace. At the window he stopped with his back to her. After a long silence, he spoke.

  “I like you. I can’t explain what it is about you that makes you different from the other women I date, but you’re special. I’m sorry we didn’t connect and I accept your decision. Who knows, sometime in the future…”

  She released the breath she had been holding. “Thank you.”

  “I want to make this clearer than I did before, no matter what, if you tell the lieutenant, or sic him on me, you’re dead. Do you understand?”

  Kyra started choking on the slice of cheese she’d swallowed. She grabbed her glass of water and drank.

  “Yes, I’ve understood that since the beginning. I can’t see any reason for discussing our business with Jake.”

  “Good. Let’s eat. I want to discuss this funeral director out of Bridgeport.”

  “Okay. How many more bodies should I expect this month?” God, she hoped he spaced them out. If Phil kept up this pace, it’d bite them both in the ass.

  Chapter 16

  Jake noted the time and place of the incident then typed up the complaint form. If he saw Kyra tonight he’d have her sign it. If not, he’d bring it around to her at the cemetery tomorrow. It was imperative that she formalize Russell’s stalking. Too many of Jake’s murder cases over the years had started out as a domestic call. He tapped a finger on his knee. There was nothing simple about a domestic. Love did crazy things to a person. People who claimed to have loved their victims tore them apart, or hacked them up. Most murders involved money or love. But love was the most vicious.

  A knock on his office door pulled him from his macabre thoughts.

  “LT, we got one. Armand’s at dinner. I didn’t want to disturb him as long as you were here.”

  “No problem, Kirk. I welcome the distraction.” Cop humor. Over the years it had worked its way into his head. “What’ve you got?”

  “Officer on scene reports a possible suicide.”

  “Let’s head out.”

  Ten minutes later, Jake pulled to the curb. Kirk Brown pulled in behind him. As he waited for Brown to get out of his car, Jake studied the house. Small, white, with black shutters. All the window treatments were closed. Officer Fisher walked up to him. Jake admired Stella Fisher, a good cop in his eyes.

  “LT, woman in her forties, wrists sliced, we found her in the tub. The house is as neat as a pin. Nothing has been disturbed. It’s owned by a Victoria Wiggins. The dead woman matches her description. The thing is, she buried her son a month ago,” Officer Stella Fisher said.

  “Quick work, Stella, thanks.” Jake appreciated an officer who didn’t trample a crime scene. “EMTs here?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t let them in. It was obvious she’s been dead for about two hours or more.”

  Nodding, he walked inside with Brown. Fisher trailed behind. “Is there a note?”

  “There’s one sticking out of her purse.”

  Jake studied the body, the position, the angle of the cuts. “Where’s the weapon that cut her?”

  “It might be in the tub, Lieutenant. I didn’t drain it yet.”

  Jake knelt beside the tub. The position of the body was wrong. The head was by the faucet, not the feet.

  “Collect your water samples before you pull the plug. And be careful, the weapon might still be in there,” he said over his shoulder.

  Armand Lanoue arrived on scene as Jake and Brown were finishing up. Jake turned over his notes and observations to him before leaving. He’d wait until McKay finished his autopsy but it looked like an open-and-shut case of suicide even with the body at the wrong end of the tub.

  The note was found in her purse. It stated she didn’t want to live without her son who had died the month before. Death again became the answer for lost love. The wrong one, but an answer all the same.

  * * * *

  Phil tapped his fork on the table and measured Kyra. She didn’t seem to mind what she did for him. He’d bide his time, because he wanted her. And he always got what he wanted, one way or another.

  “I’m not sure. After the Bridgeport one there might be one more.”

  “In case I get another call, who are the funeral directors I’ll be dealing with?”

  “You won’t be dealing with them out of the blue again. I’ll call you first before one shows up. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Slawlaski. He won’t call you again.”

  A cold shiver ran down her spine. She hoped Mr. Slawlaski wasn’t going to be one of her burns.

  “If it’s possible, can I get a little notice? It worked out well last week, because I let my secretary go home early. That way, no one but me sees Angelo.”

  “We’ll see.” He liked the way her mind worked. She protected herself as well as the people she was dealing with. It showed character.

  He pressed a button. The maid walked in minutes later with a tray of food and started serving. Tonight’s dinner consisted of manicotti and sausage. He marveled at how she ate. Wondered how she maintained her figure, though she hadn’t touched the sausage.

  “How’s dinner?”

  “Great. You were right, Maria’s a wonderful cook.”

  “You don’t like sausage?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. Let’s talk business.”

  * * * *

  Jake left the scene of the suicide around a quarter after ten. It was too late to head back to the station. He’d type up his notes when he got home. As he drove, he made a U-turn when he remembered he’d promised Kyra he’d stop in. And he had the incident report with him for her to sign. Who was she having dinner with? He’d never asked, but in his gut he knew. Yesterday, her reaction to that guy Phil had bothered him. Kyra wasn’t forthcoming either. Was he jealous or protecting
her? His answer shocked him—both.

  When he’d done a statewide search of known criminals with mob associations a Phil Lucci came up. No recent arrests, no recent picture, but the picture of Lucci at nineteen looked close enough to the guy on the beach on Sunday. He’d bet his badge on it. The question was how did he approach Kyra on the subject? Was she familiar with Lucci’s background?

  A little after ten thirty Jake watched Kyra approach her assigned parking spot, then drive past him before turning back. He climbed out of the car when she opened her door and walked around and helped her out.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Smart move, by the way, driving past until you knew who was in the car.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting smart. I noticed the city plates and figured it was you.”

  “I…I was out on a call and figured I’d stop by on my way home. I should’ve phoned.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m surprised. Were you here long?”

  Distracted. He knew when he wasn’t wanted. “No, I got here about five minutes ago and decided to do some paperwork. I was finishing up when you pulled in. I have tonight’s incident report for you to sign.”

  “Oh…do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?”

  “You don’t look like you want company. Is everything all right?”

  “No, come in. That incident with Tommy played on my mind all night.”

  “How was dinner?”

  “Awkward.”

  “Why?” He didn’t have a right to question her, but that didn’t stop him.

  “Jake, I had dinner with Phil.”

  They’d reached the door. Turning, she looked into his face. Was she looking for a reaction from him? If so, which one did she want? Jake gave her his best cop stare.

  “How’d it go?”

  “As expected.” She shrugged, unlocked the door.

  Jake scanned the place when they walked in. Kyra stopped to hang up her jacket in the closet by the door. She dropped her purse on the wrought iron table standing beside it.

  “Do you want regular or decaf?”

  “Real coffee has caffeine, accept no imitations,” he said.

  “So, the cliché is true—cops, coffee, and donuts?”

  He hit his stomach. “Does this look like I eat a lot of donuts?”